For the first bit of this movie while I admired it I couldn't see much to get a fuss about. It shows Cuaron having matured greatly as a storyteller since his last Mexican film, but his last two features already prove that. It was only in the last forty minutes that the film showed its bonafides and became the great movie of the year. It is not merely a technical masterpiece, something Cuaron has never had difficulties with, but also one of story and character.

This is an extremely political movie not limited to commenting on the time frame it exists in many scenes and moments are coherent primarily in light of the previous government as reflected against the past. Yesterday explains today with Cleo standing in for so much of Mexico. That actually was the main thing that left me apprehensive at first. The tale of Mexico's indigenous population against its Euro one is as divided and fraught as the black and white one in the US with many additional complexities. To so starkly make the movie centered on that relationship is a real tight rope act especially for someone whose previous movies have been so centered on the Euro portion of that equation. I would still like to see what Mexican critics, real ones not some random Vox or Axios wank, on both sides of the equation say about this element, but I believe the last portion of the film manipulates its commentary in a savvy way never becoming another Driving Miss Daisy nor depriving Cleo the autonomy to be happy.

The representation of Cleo is a complicated one as the film presents her interior life, that is in fact the main drama of the film, while also allowing her to be passive as a member of the family through her servitude. With expressing things explicitly she becomes a figure like Hopkins in Remains of the Day. The job becomes her rock where her life has limitations. Yet the film makes clear that those limitations are just as much an end product of how society views her as much as anything else. That's why I found the final scene so completely emotionally devastating. It's ostensibly a happy moment where the family can forge through and they have made clear how valuable Cleo is. At the same time though what life does she have left?

The film would probably be a miserable fantasy of a rich person's assumption of what their servants do after dark if matters were left as just that. Instead the film has Cleo's mistress follow the same path as her mirroring ups and downs in a way that shows how the other side lives as well as making the family not just figures to dress upon. The film brings that out from the land as well. Mexico becomes the character even more passive than Cleo until it actively strikes against man in two very different scenes. The film as a whole proves a valuable reminder of Mexico's unique history and complicated character.

The only bit that really felt like a misstep to me was the guy singing at the fire.

I really liked this moment though I probably can't explain why. I can see how it would feel out of place--like, oh, here's suddenly a very Fellini moment--but I almost wonder if it came from an actual memory of Cuaron's. Either way it worked for me, in that I felt something watching it and it was one of my favorite static compositions in the film.

Look, I saw many of the films that made me fall in love with cinema on VHS on a medium-sized tube TV, which may be superior to watching on a phone, but by how much? (I mean, how far away do you sit from your phone in this situation? If you're holding a phone up in front of you vs sitting on the other side of the room from your TV, it's about the same size, right?) But I do hope I can catch this one at the cinema, because if nothing else at least it's guaranteed to be an uninterrupted, immersive experience.

Okay, so I just caught this in the cinema. Watching this on TV (at least for the first time) is madness. Fin.

Tarr and a dash of Altman were definitely the forebears who came to mind: slow, steady, single-shot pans of chaotic scenes, tertiary characters coming and going, moments involving them that are minor but significant while they're left unwoven into the primary through-line of the story.

I quite liked the singer, too; in the moment, it felt like it walked a fine line between art as catharsis and art as ignorance, allowing for both spins, and underscoring the relation between the tragedies we do and don't see:

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an elegiac hymn for the burning, (presumably) stolen land, versus the whispered conversations about the land theft

. It's both incongruously sublime and utterly absurd, and it feels like a good example of how Cuaron tries to leave a space for criticisms of the blindspots he has from his privileged position (or so it feels to me at least, admittedly being much, much closer, privilege-wise, to Cuaron than Cleo, and so perhaps eager to vindicate our artfully bleeding hearts). And it was of a piece with a few other potent, capital-S Symbols the movie used, like the broken cup. I'm looking forward to a second viewing next weekend to see if those feel forced or over-bearing the second time around...

FWIW, one of those reviews mentions Anna Muylaert's The Second Mother as doing a 'better job of presenting the complex social dynamics' of the maid/employer relationship. It's streaming on Prime, so I'm going to try to check that out over the holidays.

Some have criticized the film for being a bit thematically listless or whatever but I think Cuaron was just walking a very fine line and he pulled the balancing act off like only a master could. The film is personal but Cuaron doesn't focus on himself. It's intimate but pulled back in its perspective. The camera tells the story but it's also, simultaneously, telling many other stories. For about an hour and a half the film is just immersing you in this world, with this family, and primarily with their maid Cleo. And then the hits come and they take you aback with how much they hit you, because up until that point you may think you've just been riding along in the car or walking the streets with these characters, not really knowing them. It's a film that shows you that empathy can come not just from dramatic constructs but from simply time spent in a place with people, if that time spent is immersive enough. And in Roma it definitely is. It doesn't need 3D or VR or anything like that. Just immaculate photography and a sick sound mix and characters that feel authentic. Well, and lots of great art direction, since it's a period piece.

I think this nails the movie. The drifting pace actually worked so well, that the impressively cathartic beach climax felt a little bit rushed. For me Roma is the best movie of 2018 along with The Ballad of Buster Scrubbs. Both produced by Netflix.

FWIW, one of those reviews mentions Anna Muylaert's The Second Mother as doing a 'better job of presenting the complex social dynamics' of the maid/employer relationship. It's streaming on Prime, so I'm going to try to check that out over the holidays.

Maybe I need to watch this again, but it just flatlined for me. I’m so disappointed to say that. I kept waiting for something, really anything to happen, but it just drifted. The riot scene was interesting, the hospital scene was brutal, but otherwise it just drifted. Again, the climatic penultimate scene just didn’t grab me either. I feel like I’ve seen all the aspects of this film done better elsewhere, albeit with less technical virtuosity.

Amazed that this is the film that might finally see a non-English-language film win Best Picture. Feels very circumstantial with it being a picture by Cuarón and Netflix’s first big art film. Critics did love it though.

Maybe I need to watch this again, but it just flatlined for me. I’m so disappointed to say that. I kept waiting for something, really anything to happen, but it just drifted. The riot scene was interesting, the hospital scene was brutal, but otherwise it just drifted. Again, the climatic penultimate scene just didn’t grab me either. I feel like I’ve seen all the aspects of this film done better elsewhere, albeit with less technical virtuosity.

Amazed that this is the film that might finally see a non-English-language film win Best Picture. Feels very circumstantial with it being a picture by Cuarón and Netflix’s first big art film. Critics did love it though.

I'd say this is solid, beautiful looking, but I do share your opinion. No idea what made this film stand out compared to many other Foreign films.